justawhistleaway:

Her month of not-performing was almost up and Yuna had to admit, there wasn’t a much better way of jumping into the music scene again than by heading into the studio with another person to sing with. The last person she had performed a song with had been Terra and the performance had been a lot of fun! To think that Seifer would be on her EP was a little odd, but she couldn’t say she was anything less than thrilled.

I’ve heard he’s very talented, she recalled as she made herself a sandwich and hummed along to a LIGHTS song playing from her living room. He sounded wonderful at Prom.

It was difficult to not remember how many students had fangirled after the blonde had exited the stage. It was probably best that Seifer and Lady Fujin hadn’t been seeing each other around that time, or some students might have gotten a serious beat down by a certain Black Mage instructor. .

Yuna couldn’t help but chuckle as she made her way to her couch and took a seat. Smiling, she took a bite of her food before setting it on the plate she had brought with her and picking picking up the phone she had laid on the couch minutes before. Quickly, she texted the young man she would be recording with later in the day.

8675 Moglet Road. See you around six?

As soon as the message sent, she plopped the device beside her on the sofa and returned her clasp to her food. A lot of musicians preferred to start recording in the morning, but the summoner had always found more insperation during the evening.

I wonder what we’ll get done, she averred as she took another bite of the wheat bread and tofurkey she had prepared.

It seemed as if Seifer had been pretty full of romance lately. What could that mean for his music?

The music blasted from the sound system, probably worth more than the vehicle itself but Seifer really didn’t care – the engine worked fine without much investment but high-end speakers that could give justice to his music were an absolute necessity. Fujin wasn’t really happy at this so-called ‘investment’ but she really cannot deny the fact how Seifer much enjoys music as much as she does.

Suddenly, I’m feeling brave.
Don’t know what’s got into me,
Why I feel this way.
Can we dance, real slow?
Can I hold you, can I hold close?

He parked on the curb, hitting the gutter as only a bad ass could and smirked as a couple jumped out the way. They disappeared around the corner which left the street almost deserted. The blond was on a late lunch, early dinner emergency run for some tacos and probably a very large sized soft drink – sure if anyone asked he was trying to score booze but how could he resist his grumbling stomach. Hope, already passed out in his room, was no help, the dude’s been passing out unusually early lately and he didn’t want to bother him so here Seifer was; stud of Fantasy High and resident bad boy making a stop at Chocobo Bell for dinner…lunch… whatever.

He let the music play instead of getting out as a figure strolled by. He wanted to take advantage of the drive-thru but when his bladder is also about to explode, there is no choice but to order like any normal person without the benefit of having a vehicle would.

The room’s hush, hush,
And now’s our moment.
Take it in feel it all and hold it.
Eyes on you, eyes on me.
We’re doing this right.

Retrieving his phone while on-queue after he took his unceremonious bathroom break, a curse just escaped under his breath. Shit. He was late. The song is still singing in his head – he studied this and he is prepared for this. The waiter suddenly asked him what his order would be but it seems like his mind was still floating in midair, thinking of alibis and lame excuses that he could come up as soon as he sees the President’s face. He knew for a fact that Yuna always takes her work seriously and professionally.

“What’s your order, Sir?” that was the fifth time and finally he snapped. He totally forgot about tacos and ordered the “Triple Super Special Chocobo Bell, takeout” which consists of everything large in the menu coupled with a humongous cup of “Paopu Blast” that was fit for a whole round table of King Arthur’s knights. Unconsciously taking out his wallet and paying for the grandiose meal, he didn’t mind when the waiter happily said to wait for fifteen minutes for his order.

Cause lovers dance when they’re feeling in love.
Spotlight shining, it’s all about us.
It’s oh, oh, oh, oh, all about uh, uh, uh, uh, us.
And every heart in the room will melt,
This is a feeling I’ve never felt but,
It’s oh, oh, all about us.

Still lost in his thoughts and with the song, he sat and picked up his phone again, reviewing the studio’s address and entering it in his GPS. Five, ten, fifteen minutes have passed and there it was the order of the century – garbed with a huge ass box container. He checked his wallet and mentally cursed himself. Dialing Yuna’s number while holding his food and a burrito in his mouth; he exited the fast food joint and went inside his car.

“Myoona… I… mwill be… mweyt.”

He focused his attention on the tray of food that had been so carefully slammed onto his wooden side table which was nearly covered up with molds. Closing his eyes, he took a long gulp of water, half-draining its contents. Wetting his lips and pausing for breath, he finished it. He tried to welcome the solid food next, nearly choked at trying to down it completely. The food was almost so foreign on his tongue that he had closely forgotten how food not diluted with alcohol could taste. His tongue just about prickled at the sensation, taste buds awakening for the first time in weeks. How strange it felt to have solid food sliding down his throat and into his stomach which quaked at the new arrival.

Seifer riveted on his stomach. It wasn’t going to stay down for long. It was just too much food for a stomach used to nothing for breakfast, a handful of nil for lunch and a sensible dinner of naught. This fasting was now ricocheting on him. His stomach rumbled. “Shit.” He cursed as he sucked in air.

He spent the next three hours over the toilet, worshiping the porcelain gods himself, vomiting his entire food intake that he tried to swallow down just a few moments ago. It was an odd feeling, he thought, actually vomiting food for once and not from a very bad hangover.

Later, exhausted, trembling, he collapsed on his bed, too tired to move around the loose spring in the mattress that impatiently entrenched itself in his arm.

…

Such a beauty with words… what are you going to tell her? That you want her to come with you? Be with you? What can you possibly offer her, you pathetic imbecile dreamer who only cares for himself?

I could protect her.

Yeah, right… like you protected your already dead mother by killing your own father?

Who’s going to protect her from you?

He pulled away from her, sighing as he rolled onto his back. He couldn’t stay. He knew that if he let his guard down from all of these selfish-induced dreams of his, he would start believing them. He would believe that the house by the ocean could be real, that it could be possible for a man like him to be worthy of such dreams.

He’d had no fucking right to touch her; he knew that from the start… She was so far above him; it had hurt his neck to look at her. But damned if she hadn’t kissed him first – let him feel that he was so fucking special, like he could own the world.

He turned softly in the sheets, rolling and touching down with a form as light as a feather which he had perfected as a child sneaking past a drunken father. He’d run all his life, it seemed. He pulled on his clothes, silently, emerald hues glued into her – to make sure she wasn’t awake, he told himself, but the truth was, every beam of sunlight seemed intent on patterning her milky pale skin in a golden sunlight glow, that he wanted to explore, examine, trace the light and shadow until she gasped his name again…

He ripped his eyes away, walked to the door when every fiber in his chest was calling back to her, back to the ocean of white sheets and her arms and – the door shut behind him, and a breath he wasn’t aware that he was holding let out in an excessive gasp.

That’s it, Almasy. Get your bag. Go to Fantasy City – alone. Get the hell out of here and leave her with a memory because if she ever figures out the reality which would happen sooner than later, she’ll realize you’re just a used up dreamer, not even close to that fucking knight or prince charming which you fooled her to believe that she needed in this fucked up shitty life… Manipulating her weakness for the benefit of your testosterone. It was better this way. If he didn’t leave now –

“Fujin.”

He pried an eye open as he heard himself speak her name, alone in his bunk bed, Seifer ran a hand through his hair and hissed out a rush of air through his teeth. He was soaked in his own pool of sweat and is still in the fucking business trip that he never meant to go to not now when he had just rekindled that almost dying flame he thought he’d never have again. Not now when he’s already thinking about ‘us’ instead of his self-induced dreams, how it’d ruin her. And not now when he just wanted to be with her – stay at her side, giving her an assurance and security that he knew she needed most right now.

He’s becoming more annoyed by the second with every screeching sound of the wood, the furious gush of waves echoing through the ship’s interiors and the rough howling of the winds that were piercing through his ears. He was used to this. Used to but none of his favorite mates were here… She is not here. What can he do when he’s in the middle of a fucking ocean waiting for those damned Trabian snow crabs take their bait? Call her? He wasn’t supposed to call her… They made an agreement just to exchange messages for a while so that it would not bother her with her work she said. She’s a busy woman now, Seifer… Of course he understood her for he respects her and her career. 

Fucking job. I wanted to hear her voice…

With a hand still holding his protesting stomach, his free hand tried to reach for his mobile device. Damn it all. Pulling the unlock screen, a bright light blinded his emerald hues and his lips curled into a grin at the sight of the photo displayed as his wallpaper which he had been thinking and fantasizing as he goes to sleep. Scrolling through his speed dial list, he chose her name and it rang…

“Hello, you have reached the number of Fujin Balamb. I apologize for not being able to answer your call personally, but if you’d be kind enough to leave your name and your request, I’ll return your call as soon as I’m able. Thank you.”

Beep.

Her voice – this recorded hymn that he has heard for the first time; he hung up and dialed her number again and again, halting the recorded message at the last syllable. Maybe this is enough… Yeah? Enough for him to die from tormenting himself at a recorded message that was intended for everyone… He gritted his teeth and gripped harder on the receiver. He’s becoming selfish again. Okay, you’re just going to tell her you miss her because that’s what you really feel. And for what? For you to transfer the torture at her? Well, damnitall.

Beep.

At the sound of the beep, he didn’t immediately speak. He’s not used to this… He’d slept with dozens of women. They’d come to him, he’d gone to them… but he had never chased one before, never cared enough to pursue. No, Seifer Almasy did not chase anyone nor missed anyone. But this woman…

…

“Fujin… I… I miss you.”

 Click.

disasterrific-rikku:

At the suggestion of a Vodka Tonic, she must have made a face because Seifer was giving her quite an amused expression.

“Just pretend it’s Al Bhed you traditional alien,”

“Hmph!” Rikku crossed her arms and stuck her tongue out at him, warily looking at the glass that was now offered before her. A tentative sniff made her wrinkle her nose before she bit the bullet and took a small, hesitant sip.

“Bleghh!” The blonde couldn’t help but make a noise of distaste; it was all bite without any flavor to it. It also wasn’t that kind of spicy kick that Al Bhed liquor had either..but regardless, she took another sip anyway, trying to show that she could drink it all if she wanted to. “Al Bhed stuff’s still better,” She remarked, a smirk playing on her face as she joked around with him.

Suddenly, she felt a finger on her shoulder, another voice grabbing her attention as she turned around to see one of the guys who was looking over before now right in front of her. Coupled with the weird smile on his face and the way he reeked of alcohol, the blonde knew this wasn’t going to be good.

“My name is Sam and I was wondering if you’d mind giving me a hand job.”

Rikku could only gape in a mixture of shock and bewilderment at the statement. What a perv! Seifer’s voice interjected the moment of silence succeeding the man’s disgusting request, thrusting his jacket toward her with a look that she didn’t bother with refusing; he had gone from playful to intimidating in a matter of seconds. 

With the jacket on (giving her a moment of Deja Vu from the first time she had met Seifer and ended up wearing his jacket during a thunderstorm), Rikku watched as Seifer’s anger flared even more after Sam’s insult. That was so out of line, and Rikku was tired of staying quiet.

“How about it? I’ll pay.”

“How about…” Rikku grabbed her drink, pushing herself off of the barstool as she walked up the man, unconcerned with how she had to look up to glare at him due to their height difference, “…I give you this instead, you sicko!” She then proceeded to drench him with the entirety of her glass, grinning as she caught him completely off guard.

“So that’s how you want to play?” The creep responded, eyeing her angrily. It was at that point that all of his other buddies saw what was going on and began to come up behind him, outnumbering her and Seifer by five to two. The situation was quickly spiraling out of control, and Rikku suddenly wanted to be far, far away from this bar.

Unfortunately, Sam wasn’t very good with rejection. “Is everything alright here, Sam?” One of his mates asked coming up behind him, gesturing for the others to go on ahead. “Any problems?” 

“Get this.” Sam sneered. “Turns out this chick is a hooker and this guy…” He jerked his head towards Seifer “…is her pimp. He’s making with the big mouth you know.”

One on two? Not bad.

“Calm down.” Seifer advised, his words were dripping with poison, emerald hues igniting with flames and a devilish smirk that seemed irremovable. “We can sort this out without any violence having to take place,” Then he grabbed a bar stool and swung it with all his considerable strength. Sam’s mate saw it coming and ducked but it caught Sam full in the head and chest, knocking him off his feet.

One down, another one to go.

Sam’s friend charged towards Seifer and pushed him backwards against the bar. He drew back a fist but Seifer let loose a surprise punch to his chest before folding him up with a knee to the gut. He pushed him back before hitting him with an explosive punch to the back of the head. He fell to the floor and Seifer rolled him over with a boot in the kidneys before delivering an axe kick to his stomach. Out of breath, he passed out.

“Tch. What a bunch of lamers.”

Sam by this point was back on his feet. His nose was bleeding and his lip was split but he seemed game for a rumble. Before he could make a move he was pushed back by the bartender.

“Hey man! I wasn’t doing anything!” Sam protested. “That psycho pimp just went for us. It was totally uncalled-for!”

“Yeah? Well save it!” The bartender replied. “Get the fuck off my bar! You hoodlums are always up to no good! You are well and truly barred. Now sling your hook before I let him at you.”

Silence remained for a moment as he tried to recollect himself before turning to look at Rikku. He cracked his knuckles.  “You alright back there?” He was a little out of breath but he liked the feeling. The blood of victory rushing through his veins, semi-bruised blood stained knuckles throbbing, the rush of adrenaline – damn. He missed this feeling. 

(Source: -seiferalmasy)

HNNNGGG…!!

NOEL KREISS!!

His bags are packed and he’s ready to go. A cab’s waiting outside the school’s door. It’s just another lonesome stormy night. 

He wrote a note and left it on his desk…

———————————- Message ———————————————-

To anyone who gives a shit:

I’ll be gone in a few days. If Instructor Balamb added your name on the list, rest assured that I will also hunt your sorry asses down when I get back. 

S. Almasy

———————————— End of Message ————————————

ooc; My muse is quite wandering off somewhere right now. I will still be here tho… lurking and would try to reply [very gradually] to those drafts that have been staying for days or weeks already. I do hope I’ll manage to pull this together anytime soon. Thank you.